


Of Flowers and Marshmallows

by jojosiewa



Series: MCYT Short Stories [26]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), The Crafting Dead
Genre: Bonfire, College, Drinking, Falling In Love, Forests, Friends to Lovers, Impossible Architecture, Kinda, M/M, Romance, Supernatural Elements, Superpowers, abandoned cottage in the woods hehe, assume everyone whos drinking is 21 or over, discrepancies in reality and stuff, local legend, showin someone the world idk, small town, the supernatural stuff is actually hardly relevant its funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26209609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojosiewa/pseuds/jojosiewa
Summary: There sat a cottage in the woods by the town, and Ghetto figured whoever might live there didn't wish to be bothered.Then a reckless friend left a beer bottle in the woods and unintentionally sent Ghetto on a mission that would change his life.
Relationships: Ghetto/Nick (Crafting Dead)
Series: MCYT Short Stories [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1192948
Kudos: 5





	Of Flowers and Marshmallows

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHARLIE!!!!!

“I dare you— no, really, don’t look at me like that— I dare you to go up to the porch,” Shark said, taking a swig of cheap beer. Ghetto shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m not doing that, someone could be living there, I’m not gonna be rude,” Ghetto said. They all paused, and listened through the cacophony of the woods at dusk for any hint of human interference, besides themselves, to entertain Ghetto’s thought. There was nothing, and Ghetto continued. “Look, we’re not teenagers anymore, we’re in college, we shouldn’t be doing things like this.”

“Whatever you say, chicken,” AK mocked, nudging Ghetto’s arm with his elbow. Ghetto pushed him in return, causing the scrawny blonde to stumble several steps sideways.

Shark laughed. “You go up there then, AK, if you’re gonna talk shit,” he urged, pushing AK forward. AK yelped and backtracked frantically.

“I’m not gonna— no. What Ghetto said, we’re grown ups or whatever,” AK hissed at Shark, who scoffed and shook his head. “Hey look, I’m not scared or anything—”

“Guys, come on,” Ghetto sighed, and his tone quieted them. They took a brief moment and stared in silence at the small cottage ahead of them. It was around twenty minutes down an unmarked dirt path in their small town, tucked snugly in the woods. The cottage was old and it seemed as if nature had taken it back, with vines and leaves curling up and wrapping around the walls and porch, topped off with various colorful flowers. It had always been there, and yet no one ever ventured inside, for fear of... well, no one knew. Ghosts, curses, axe murderers, the stories all varied.

“Y’know, Annie told me her friend went in there as a kid and saw a ghost of a hunter dude,” Shark whispered, and Ghetto rolled his eyes.

“I heard if you walk in, you’re trapped in there forever and you can’t get out,” AK added, snorting at the thought and taking a final sip of his beer.

“There aren’t any ghosts or curses, kids here were all liars, we all used to do it. Lie about riding down here on our bikes and seeing scary shit.” Ghetto explained, shrugging it off. “Come on, guys, I have an 8 a.m. class tomorrow. I don’t even know why I entertained you two in driving all the way out here.”

“Alright,” AK mumbled, lingering as the other two turned and walked back to the car. He watched the cottage for another second before throwing his empty bottle into the woods and following suit. Ghetto glanced at the rear view mirror and thought he saw something in the cottage’s window, a flash of red, but when he looked closer, it was just the old curtain, waving slightly.

“Dude, drive,” AK sighed, and Ghetto nodded.

“Right.”

——

“You left your fucking beer in the woods,” Ghetto spat, leaning out of his car’s open window. AK stood just outside, stammering. Ghetto had just dropped AK off, and Ghetto happened to notice the missing beer bottle.

“Can you lay off, man—”

“Man— you can’t do that shit, I already felt bad for driving up there and staring at the place for ten minutes, now you littered. Get inside, man!” Ghetto pointed harshly to AK’s apartment building, and AK sulked off towards it. Ghetto grumbled about him as he rolled up his window and drove off, tapping his fingers angrily against his steering wheel.

When he got back to the dirt road on his way home, he gave it a quick look. It was fully dark now, and the road stretched out into unlit, definitely-not-scary-as-shit woods. Ghetto sighed, shook his head, and figured he’d pick up the bottle the next day after classes if he could.

——

The dirt road didn’t seem as menacing in the daylight, and Ghetto hummed softly to music as he drove down it, taking quick glances every once in a while to look around the woods. He’d grown up in the town, appreciated the surrounding nature, and used that to justify his return to the now-littered cottage; rescue the woods from an empty beer bottle, and maybe spare the owner some trouble, if there even was an owner.

But he couldn’t shake the swaying curtain from his mind. All the windows and doors were shut... Surely, if someone did live there, they would be seen leaving and entering eventually. They had to get food, water, they’d be seen at the store. It was a small town, people knew each other, and could differentiate town members from mysterious strangers who lived in a secluded cottage.

So maybe, Ghetto was also a bit curious. But curiosity killed the damn cat, and Ghetto quickly shot down any thoughts of peering in windows or knocking on doors. It wasn’t his business.

He parked on the road and got out, leaves crunching under his shoes. He walked along the path, scouring the area but finding nothing. He grunted and went back to check again when he heard the clinking of a bottle. He turned towards the house, and saw AK’s empty beer bottle rolling across the porch and onto the forest floor. The door to the cottage was cracked open.

“Oh, fuck,” Ghetto breathed, stepping backwards towards his car. The bottle kept rolling, on account of the sloped ground, until it hit Ghetto’s foot. Ghetto bent down slowly and picked it up. He held it towards the cracked door. “Um— sorry about this, uh, my friend, he’s kinda an idiot, and he threw it away here— I came back to get it, not to cause any trouble.”

The door opened a bit wider, and a boy poked his head out. He was around Ghetto’s age, with light brown skin and dark brown, curly hair. A bright red scarf was wrapped around his neck, and the loose end shifted slightly in the breeze. He was short, fairly small, and definitely not what Ghetto expected from the old cottage. For a moment, Ghetto was left speechless.

“Um— hello, I accept your apology,” the boy said timidly, almost hiding behind the door. Ghetto blinked and shook his head.

“Oh— oh yeah uh, if— if there’s anything I can do to make up for it, I mean, I got you,” Ghetto offered, smiling and violently cursing inside his head. Why in the everloving fuck did he say that.

The boy opened his mouth, then hesitated.

“Do you... do you have any marshmallows?” he asked, and Ghetto raised his eyebrows.

“Marshmallows— oh, I mean, actually I do,” Ghetto said, walking back to his car and opening the backseat. “Some friends and I were gonna roast some— but I can get more on my way back home, so it’s no problem.” He grabbed the sweets and walked towards the cottage. He nearly stepped onto the porch, but he looked up and saw that the boy’s eyes (Ghetto could see now that they were a pretty green) were wide. He stopped, and dropped the bag of marshmallows onto the porch.

“Thanks,” the boy whispered, and Ghetto nodded, gazing at his freckles for a moment.

“No problem, I’m gonna, uh—” Ghetto nearly tripped over a bump in the path as he backed away. The boy cracked a smile at this. “I’m gonna go, I won’t tell anyone you’re here, or anything.”

“Oh— okay.” The smile faded. “Thank you, sir.”

“Ghetto— that’s my name,” Ghetto said, nodding. The boy nodded back.

“Nick,” he said, and he leaned on the cottage’s doorway. “Very nice to meet you.”

“Nick,” Ghetto repeated, smiling. “Nice to meet you too, uh— have a good day, Nick.”

“You too, Ghetto,” Nick said. Ghetto backed up a few more steps, still mesmerized, before finally turning around and walking to his car. He got inside, let out a breath, and saw Nick in the rear view mirror, walking out of the house to grab the bag of marshmallows. Ghetto hummed, then shook his head and turned the car on, starting his trek back home.

——

“So then I caught him in an uppercut—”

“What the hell are you even saying, that doesn’t even make any sense!”

_Marshmallows. He wanted marshmallows. Why would he need marshmallows?_

“AK, you’re making shit up.”

“I am not!”

_What a cute thing to ask for. Marshmallows. I’m glad I had some for him._

“You’re putting random fighting words together.”

“I saw the skirmish in question, you and Sky pushed each other like, twice.”

_He smiled at me. The boy named Nick living in the mysterious cottage in the woods asked for marshmallows and smiled at me and told me to have a good day._

“Are you alright, Ghetto?” Ghetto jumped, snapping out of his daze and looking over at Shark, who was squinting at him. AK and Annie, Shark’s girlfriend, both turned to look at him as well, their little lunch group going silent.

Ghetto sat up straight and cleared his throat. “I’m fine, I mean I’m a bit tired,” he said, picking up his plastic fork and poking aimlessly at his cafeteria food. It was a day after he’d returned to the cottage, and he was still turning the strange interaction over in his head. It seemed so outlandish, almost like something he’d dream about. But it wasn’t; Ghetto had the receipt for the replacement marshmallows he bought. There was a boy living in the cottage in the woods, and no one had ever noticed.

“You’ve been off all day, didn’t pay attention in class either,” Annie said, and Ghetto shrugged. “I took good notes for you, though, I’ll send them.”

“Thanks. Just didn’t get enough sleep, and shit,” Ghetto lied, and Shark raised his eyebrows. “What are we talking about?”

“I fought Sky this morning,” AK boasted, grinning. Ghetto scoffed.

“I heard you just shoved each other a bit.”

“Oh, that’s what you pay attention to!”

Ghetto laughed and took a sip of his soda, but the image of Nick and his smile stayed with him, poking at the back of his mind with a relentless determination.

——

By the time Ghetto was done with his classes for the day, he couldn’t stand it anymore. He drove to the store, bought a few big bags of varying sizes of marshmallows, and headed off towards the cottage.

This time, Nick was standing on the porch, leaning over the old wooden railing, as Ghetto’s car approached. His pretty green eyes were wide, and he almost seemed hopeful. Ghetto parked his car and turned it off, leaning back in his seat for a moment.

“I do not do these types of things,” he whispered to himself, glancing at the several bags of marshmallows. “I do not do these things. That is an insane amount of marshmallows.” He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay let’s go.”

He got out of the car and carried the bags up to the cottage. Nick eyed them curiously. “Are those all—”

“Yeah— uh, I think I— look.” Ghetto held up a finger as he thought of what to say. “I can’t just— I’m very, very confused, and I needed to come back down here but I figured this all is very rude of me so I brought you more marshmallows to make up for my intruding on your solitude again but man I just have so, so so many questions about all of this—”

“Come in.” Nick was smiling now. “Thanks for the gifts, come in.”

Ghetto blinked, and nodded. “Okay,” he breathed, stepping onto the porch and following Nick inside the cottage. He had to duck his head slightly, and it occurred to him that he must have been a foot taller than Nick; they’d never stood on equal ground before then.

“Here’s home, uh, looks nicer on the inside right?” Nick gazed expectantly up at Ghetto, who nodded in return and looked around. It was true; despite the unkept exterior, the cottage looked tidy and homey, decorated with a few tacky furniture choices that often came from small town furniture stores. The curtains were open (had they always been?), and natural light shone in onto various potted plants throughout the house. In fact, there were plants on nearly every surface.

“Can I get you anything?” Nick asked, walking towards the kitchen. Ghetto barely registered the question, eyes darting around the cottage as he tried to make sense of it all. Nick glanced back at him and tilted his head. “Ghetto?”

Ghetto jumped and shook his head. “Uh— no, I’m alright,” he said, taking a few unsure steps further into the cottage. “You— you live here.”

Nick smiled and nodded. “Have for most of my life!”

“Most of—” Ghetto raised his eyebrows, not sure he believed it. “Most of your life. This place has been local legend for long before I was around and you must be—”

“Twenty, I’m twenty,” Nick said, nodding. He was clearly growing excited, fidgeting with his hands and grinning. It was the only thing keeping Ghetto fairly grounded, oddly enough. He liked Nick’s smile, liked the sparkle in his eyes. “And yeah, I don’t really have anything to do with the rumors, actually.”

“You don’t, you’re— you’re like invisible. I’ve never seen you around,” Ghetto said, thinking aloud now. “How’d— how’d no one realize this place was occupied for this long?” He took another look around. “Like— there’s no— no way no one ever tried to get in, or seen lights, or something, I just don’t get it.”

Nick seemed to light up even more at the question. “Well, actually— um, we caught kind of a lucky break with this place— you really want answers huh,” he said, and he paused to think for a moment as Ghetto nodded intensely. “Here, go back outside, I’ll show you.”

Nick placed a gentle hand on Ghetto’s back and led him back out the door. Ghetto let Nick push him out onto the porch, still a bit stunned. Then, Nick grabbed the doorknob and grinned. “This is super cool, it’s like mind-blowing stuff,” he giggled, eyes bright. Ghetto nodded, smiling at Nick’s demeanor.

_He’s really something else, huh—_

Nick shut the door in Ghetto’s face. Ghetto blinked in shock, leaning back slightly. “Nick?” he asked, knocking softly on the door. There was no response, and Ghetto frowned. He walked towards the window and jumped at the sight, pressing his face to the glass.

Through a crack in the curtains, Ghetto could see that the furniture inside the cottage had been covered with white sheets, and the previously colorful aesthetic had been turned dull and lifeless. Ghetto ran back to the door and opened it with ease, the squeal of rusty hinges making him cringe. He stumbled inside and kicked up dirt and dust that had been settled on the creaking floor. There were no houseplants, no warm colors, only an old, abandoned cottage.

“Nick!” Ghetto called, walking over and opening all the doors. There was no longer any sign of Nick inside the cottage. Ghetto spun on his heel and put a hand on his head. “What the f— what the fuck. What the fuck?” His voice was growing frantic now. He marched back towards the door and flung it open, staring wide-eyed into the expanse of woods beyond the cottage. “Nick—”

“Ghetto, I’m here!”

Ghetto whipped around, and saw Nick at the door, holding it open. He waved, and Ghetto froze for a moment, his mouth hung open. Nick tilted his head. “Ghetto?” he asked, his smile dropping. “Are you alright. Did I break your brain.”

Ghetto let out a breath. “What,” he whispered, stepping forward. “What did you—”

“Oh! Come in,” Nick said, worry in his tone. He stepped aside and watched Ghetto make his way back into the cottage, which once again held the tacky furniture and the houseplants and all. Ghetto spun around again, damn near shaking now, before his eyes once again settled on Nick.

“What— is happening,” he said, shaking his head. “No wait— am I— like high? No way I am. Dreaming?” He snapped his finger and pointed at Nick. “Dreaming, this is a dream.”

“It’s not,” Nick said, not as bubbly as he was a few moments ago. His shoulders were pulled forward, and he was cringing. There was a mix of regret and guilt on his face. “I think I shouldn’t have done this, I got ahead of myself—”

“Ahead of—” Ghetto hesitated as he saw Nick’s increasingly anxious body language. Ghetto’s head was still spinning, but seeing the change in Nick cleared the fog enough for him to realize his reaction was causing Nick anxiety. He held up a hand, took a deep breath, and walked over to the table where he’d left the marshmallows. He took a bag and opened it, holding it out to Nick. “Let’s both— let’s both slow down.”

Nick perked up and looked from the bag to Ghetto. “Alright,” Nick sighed, taking a handful of mini marshmallows and pouring them into his mouth.

——

“I really shouldn’t be telling you this,” Nick said, tapping his fingers against the table rapidly. “You— You were just nice, alright? You came back for the bottle your friend left, and you— you said sorry, told me to have a good day, and everything. I got a little carried away.”

They were sitting across from each other at the dining table, each occasionally taking a marshmallow or a few from the open bag between them. Ghetto was quiet, waiting as patiently as he could for Nick to explain everything.

“Okay. Guess we start with the cottage,” Nick began, and Ghetto leaned forward slightly. “Believe it or not there are some strange things out there, weird little anomalies that most people dismiss. This town has a few of them, this place being one. If you open the door, the cottage looks abandoned. But I’m the owner. If I open the door for you and let you in, you come into my home. Because I let you into my home.”

“Which is real?” Ghetto asked, and Nick shrugged.

“They both are. This cottage is simultaneously abandoned and not abandoned. You can’t think about it too much,” Nick explained. “My papa and I showed up when I was four. We walked in, and saw what you saw, the dust and the covered furniture. But papa fixed it up and made it home, and we discovered that once we did that, no one else could actually see the new furniture, or us, inside. This is just my theory, I’m a bit of a romantic, I think, but I think that because the cottage gained a new meaning for someone, home, it created a new bit of reality around it and separated it. But— I don’t know. You can’t really explain these things.”

Ghetto leaned back, and Nick watched him, letting him process. Ghetto was trying his best to stay calm, but all of a sudden the unknowns of his world were growing far beyond whether or not the cottage down the dirt path in the woods was occupied, and he couldn’t help but feel a little— _a lot_ like his brain was overheating. And there was Nick, sitting across from him, politely silent, popping a mini marshmallow into his mouth and smiling when Ghetto made eye contact.

The smile made Ghetto stumble over his words as he attempted to ask, “But wh— what about the— spooky stories. The— the mysterious, haunted, cursed cottage in the woods, y’know?”

“Entirely small town gossip. It’s just a normal cottage as far as anyone else would see, but kids are kids, and all.” Nick waved it off.

“Electricity. Water. Gas.” Ghetto held up his fingers as he listed them off.

“Generator. Well. Don’t use it.” Nick poked the tips of each of Ghetto’s fingers. “We light fires manually to cook food.”

“You keep saying we,” Ghetto noticed, glancing around as if expecting to see someone. “You and your pops, right? Where is he?”

“He tracks anomalies like this house, he’s out of state dealing with one right now, making sure it doesn’t get anyone hurt. I think it’s an endless... hallway? Staircase? Uh... endless something or other.” Nick explained, shrugging. “It’s why I asked for marshmallows, he usually goes to the store for me, but he’s not here, so, y’know.”

“And no one ever noticed this guy,” Ghetto said, raising an eyebrow. “There’s small town gossip, just like you said.”

“Oh, dear,” Nick sighed. “Look— these strange occurrences aren’t really... confined to places. Have you ever been to the store and walked into an aisle and lost a few seconds of memory? Like you’d clearly moved, but you didn’t remember moving?”

Ghetto squinted as he tried to remember such an occurrence. He perked up, and Nick raised his eyebrows. “Yes, yeah, hold on! I was driving, came towards the dirt road, then suddenly I was already past it! It was finals week, I thought I fell asleep! Scared the shit outta me!” Ghetto exclaimed, putting a hand on his head. “What was it?”

“That was my papa, he must have been turning onto the dirt road as you passed,” Nick said. “He can make people forget they ever saw him, if he so pleases.”

Ghetto blinked. Nick winced.

“I think I should stop talking,” he whimpered, and Ghetto shook his head, not yet ready to leave the world he’d been thrown into. Plus, Nick was nice...

“No— no. I’m fine!” Ghetto lied, shooting Nick a smile and a finger gun. Nick let out a nervous laugh at this.

“Are you sure, I have one more thing—”

“Rip it off like a bandaid, I’ll be good,” Ghetto urged, rubbing his hands together.

Nick took a deep breath. “Okay...!”

Ghetto watched as Nick reached over towards the flower pot on the table, which contained a cluster of different types of succulents. He pulled it closer, and held it with both hands. Ghetto opened his mouth to ask, but he froze when he saw the succulents begin to grow. He leaned forward, eyes widening, as several of them sprouted stalks and flowered. Nick smiled and moved his hands to his lap, and the sudden growth spurt stopped.

“I can— I can grow plants all on my own, um, flowers are my specialty, but anything works,” Nick explained, rubbing his arms anxiously and looking away. Ghetto let out a breath and touched the plant.

“This is... fuckin’ awesome!” Ghetto exclaimed, pulling the succulents closer. Nick looked back at him and sat up straighter. “You can just— woah! So that kinda explains all the plants in here.”

Nick was blushing now. “Um— I also just like houseplants,” he added, and Ghetto gasped.

“Right! Right, yeah. Wow— shit, that’s cool. I’m not very articulate right now but that’s just really cool, man!” Ghetto let out a breathy laugh. Nick tucked some of his hair behind his ear and giggled.

“You’re very kind, Ghetto, thank you,” Nick said, waving it off. “I trust you’ll keep this to yourself?”

“Of course,” Ghetto reassured. “Don’t worry about that. I can get out of your hair now, too.”

Nick sighed, his smile fading. “You weren’t bothering me, actually, it’s nice to be able to talk to someone my age. And someone who’s not... my father,” he admitted, and Ghetto scoffed.

“I bet. You really never leave, huh.”

“For my safety,” Nick said, and Ghetto didn’t press the subject. “But it does get lonely, sometimes. Sorry again though, for dumping the whole truth on you just because you picked up some litter.”

Ghetto shook his head. “Look, I’m not a fan of living in the dark, that’s something I’ll admit. I’m thankful,” he said, glancing at his phone. “Holy shit, I should get home.”

Nick’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, and Ghetto nodded.

“I’m a little freaked, sure, but I’ll be fine. I have an early class tomorrow,” Ghetto sighed, standing up. “And I have work to do tonight.”

Nick stood as well and tied up the open marshmallow bag. “You go to college,” he noted, and Ghetto nodded. “I didn’t even know.” Nick scoffed. “I don’t really know much about you, now that I think about it.”

Ghetto’s eyes widened in the slightest. “You don’t, huh.” It was quiet, for a moment, as Nick and Ghetto gazed at each other, neither wanting their day’s interaction to be over. Then, Ghetto felt a grin cross his face and a slight blush on his cheeks. “Then I guess I’ll have to come back sometime. Tell you my story?”

Nick laughed, and Ghetto grinned wider. “I guess you will.”

“I can come over Saturday around noon, make it a lunch. I can bring more treats if you tell me what you like,” Ghetto offered, backing towards the cottage door.

Nick placed a finger on his chin. “Surprise me. Saturday’s good, lunch is good, what’s your favorite fruit?”

“Peaches, hands down,” Ghetto said immediately, back pressed to the cottage door. “Why do you ask?”

Nick turned his head away and smirked. “I’ll see you on Saturday, Ghetto,” he said, deflecting. Ghetto squinted and nodded.

“Yeah, alright, Nick.” Ghetto opened the door and stepped outside, turning back to wave goodbye. Nick saluted, then giggled at himself. Ghetto laughed back; Nick’s laugh was contagious. “Bye, man.”

“Bye,” Nick whispered. Ghetto softly closed the cottage door, and backed up, nearly falling backwards off the porch in his daze. He managed to stumble back to his car in one piece.

——

That night, as Ghetto was dozing off, reality set in. His eyes shot open, and he glanced around his room, suddenly paralyzed. “Endless hallway...?” he whimpered, glancing towards the door to his apartment and thinking of the hallway right outside. “How the hell do you get out of an endless hallway...?”

He didn’t get good sleep.

——

“Reid. Mister Reid. Ghetto. Ghe-tto.” A pen tapped lightly against Ghetto’s desk, right in front of him. “Kid. Ghetto!”

Ghetto jumped and nearly fell off his chair. “Yea— I’m awake, I’m— I’m awake!” he stammered, clearing his throat and sitting up straight. “I’ve been awake, Professor.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Professor Xavier said, a slight scoff accompanying his words. “You look like you haven’t slept in ages.”

Xavier was a biochemistry professor, and Ghetto had been in his general chemistry class, along with most of his friends, in his freshman year. Xavier’s teaching stuck with them, and so they all ended up hanging around his room from time to time long after the end of their freshman year. Xavier didn’t mind their company, as long as they weren’t too loud. Ghetto often went there to wait until parking lot traffic cleared up after his last class, maybe get some work done if Shark and AK didn’t follow.

That day, however, all he did was stare off into space and zone out thinking about old cottages and hidden rooms and cute boys with plant-growing powers.

“Are you okay?” Xavier asked, and Ghetto nodded, rubbing his eyes.

“Didn’t sleep well, just got something on my mind is all,” Ghetto said. Xavier hummed and started to walk back towards his desk. Ghetto glanced down at his work and sighed, pushing it aside. “Hey, Professor?”

“Yes, Ghetto?” Xavier turned back around and sat on his desk, one leg crossed over the other.

“Have you ever... had a strange experience?” Ghetto asked. Xavier tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. “That’s vague, I mean like— have you experienced something that you couldn’t possibly explain? Like a... room that’s bigger on the inside, or something? A discrepancy in science.”

Xavier leaned back and thought on that for a moment. “Well let’s see... nothing in terms of strange architecture, but I had a student once, a while back, who always made it to class first, nearly as soon as my previous class was over. People would walk out, and I’d see her sitting there, front row, as the last class filtered out. Not entirely strange, except I saw on her record she had a class before mine that was across the campus, no way she would have been able to make it that early. I always figured she was ditching her other class, but she wasn’t the type to do so, was always so interested... but that wasn’t my business,” he explained. “What’s this new fascination with the unexplainable, now, has something happened?”

Ghetto shook his head. “No, nothing, Professor, just wondering.”

“Dear boy, maybe you should get some sleep.”

“That might be a good idea.”

——

On Saturday around noon, Ghetto put on a nice (but casual!) outfit, bought two sandwiches from his favorite deli, and drove down the dirt road towards the impossible cottage. He whistled to music and pretended he hadn’t spent the past few days attempting to come to terms with the new information he held by scrolling through various forums late at night (this was, of course, a mistake) and asking friends if they’d ever experienced anything similar (which, considering his choice in friends, was also a mistake).

When Nick opened the door, the smell of cooking peaches was unmistakable. Ghetto’s eyes widened, and Nick scoffed, stepping aside. “Cobbler. It’s in the oven,” he said, and Ghetto stepped inside.

“You’re making that for me?” Ghetto asked, pointing to himself. Nick nodded.

“It’s an apology. Grew some peaches from the tree out back, I have some for you to take home, too,” Nick said. Ghetto set down the sandwiches and turned to Nick. “Figured the reality of it all would set in later, when you got home, have you been alright?”

Ghetto took a deep breath. “Honestly, it’s all been on my mind a lot, and I have some catching up to do school wise. But I was excited to see you again, y’know, so that softened everything, I guess.”

Nick nodded. “Listen, I should’ve told you that these things are few and far between, and by the way, mostly harmless. Most of what my papa does is all precautionary—”

“I’m alright,” Ghetto reassured, patting Nick’s shoulder. “Let’s eat.”

——

“I go to college for engineering,” Ghetto said, watching Nick take a big bite of his deli sandwich and smile contently. Ghetto grinned, glad he guessed the right order. “Good, right?”

Nick nodded and motioned for Ghetto to keep talking.

“Uh, I’m also twenty, born and raised here. Got out of the dorms as soon as possible, have my own place. Hmm. Work part-time at the auto repair place. I have a motorcycle—”

Nick choked on his food, coughing and taking a few big sips of water, shooting a concerned Ghetto a thumbs up. “You have a motorcycle,” he repeated, voice hoarse. His face was red, and he cupped his hands over his ears, as if hiding them.

Ghetto nodded and smiled. “It was a really big like... _ooh I’m 18 I’m in college and it’s a fresh start and I’m super cool_ thing. I don’t use it as much now,” he explained, shrugging it off.

“You are super cool,” Nick said, leaning his head on his hand and gazing at him. Ghetto blushed.

“Th— Thanks, man, hey, you’re the one who can grow plants with your mind, or, something. You’re super cool yourself,” Ghetto said, taking a bite of his sandwich.

Nick rolled his eyes jokingly and waved him off. “We’re here to talk about you, remember?” The oven dinged, and they both jumped. “Cobbler’s ready. What do you like to do in your free time? I like to bake, draw, and I mean, take care of my plants.”

Ghetto hummed in thought as Nick got up to grab the cobbler. “I like spending time with my friends, really. I don’t know what I’d do without them, y’know, even if one of them’s fuckin’... AK. He’s the one who left his bottle. We’ve all known each other since we were kids, though,” Ghetto sighed. “You really never spoke to anyone your age?”

Nick took two plates and placed a portion of the cobbler on each as he responded. “No, but now I’m talking to you! Don’t know what’ll happen when papa gets back, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. He’s gonna be gone a little while.” He brought the plates back to the table, and Ghetto took his eagerly.

“So, you wanna keep talking after this, then,” Ghetto said, stuffing a forkful of peach cobbler into his mouth. He gasped, and held up a finger as he chewed; he’d entered heaven. Nick beamed as Ghetto swallowed the bite and laughed. “Holy shit! That was the best damn magic peach cobbler I’ve had!”

“I’m glad you liked it!” Nick laughed, taking a bite himself. He nodded and hummed at the taste. “Magic peach cobbler... you’re so funny. And by the way, ‘course I wanna keep talking after this. You’re... very nice, easy to talk to.”

Ghetto smiled at that. Nick scoffed.

“Long as you bring more marshmallows.”

Ghetto snorted. “Long as you manifest more peaches,” he countered.

“Deal.” Nick held out a hand, and Ghetto shook it. Their hands lingered for a moment, and they both looked between their hands to each other. Then Nick snorted, and Ghetto chuckled, and they both broke out into laughter.

“This is absurd!” Nick exclaimed, and Ghetto nodded, covering his mouth as he laughed. “I don’t think this is how people normally become— um, _friends_.” He spoke the last word hesitantly. Ghetto raised his head slightly at this.

“It’s definitely not the usual. Hey, I’ll just come over, man, alright?” Ghetto said, placing a hand over Nick’s. The laughter subsided, and Nick glanced down at Ghetto’s hand. “Afternoons.”

“That sounds good,” Nick breathed. He moved his hand. “I— cobbler’s getting cold.”

“Right.” Ghetto cleared his throat. An awkwardness lingered for a few moments before the banter resumed, but throughout the rest of the conversation, Ghetto felt his newfound fear of the unknown become overshadowed by—

——

“—a crush, man,” Shark said, tossing a tennis ball up and catching it. Ghetto snapped out of his daze suddenly, overhearing the word.

“What did you say?” he asked, and Shark pointed at him.

“I bet you’ve got a crush,” Shark repeated. AK only rolled his eyes. “You’ve been all weird for almost three weeks now! You’ve acted like this before, in middle school, when you saw that boy. That I remember, you were out of it for days and you only saw him once!”

Ghetto leaned back at the accusation. “Excuse you, I hardly remember that even happening. And I do not have a crush, FYI,” he lied, turning away from Shark. Xavier snorted from his desk as he graded papers. “I’m trying to get my work done, man.”

The three college students were in Xavier’s classroom, around three weeks after Ghetto first met Nick. Ghetto had been driving down to the cottage some afternoons for about two weeks, however, and the disappearing, the zoning out, and the occasional purchase of sandwiches and marshmallows were beginning to give him away. Shark hit the nail on the head; Ghetto had a crush on Nick, a big, big crush, one that made him feel like he was in high school again. All lingering contact and longing gazes. He had many thoughts about the nature of his visits to the cottage (it didn’t always feel like a friendship, sometimes felt like something more), but Nick seemed to believe they were just friends, so Ghetto went with that.

(Little did Ghetto know, Nick spent a good chunk of his time pacing as he wondered whether or not Ghetto liked him the same way he liked Ghetto. It seemed Nick and Ghetto had both gotten themselves into a very confusing situation that could be clarified very easily if it weren't for the fact that they both refused to confess their feelings outright.)

“You’re scribbling hearts all over a blank piece of paper,” AK pointed out, snatching the paper and squinting at it. “You’re so gross. And very obvious.”

“Hey—” Ghetto reached out, but Shark grabbed the paper first.

“N plus G,” Shark read, and he hummed in thought. “Who’s name starts with an N that we know?”

“That one guy, Martin.”

“AK, that’s an M, you idiot.”

“Oh, shit—”

“Boys,” Xavier said, looking up from his work. The three mumbled sorries and quieted down for a moment, leaving the room in silence for a good ten seconds before Ghetto spoke up again.

“I don’t have a crush,” he said, and Shark got up.

“Whatever, man, you better still come to the bonfire on Friday,” Shark said, whacking Ghetto’s head jokingly. “Maybe you can bring a date.”

“You’re so mean,” Ghetto sighed, scoffing as Shark handed him his paper back. “Headin’ out?”

“Yeah, man, I have a lot of work tonight.”

“I’m goin’ too,” AK added. Ghetto mumbled a goodbye to both of them as they left, thanking Xavier on their way out.

“Take care,” Xavier said, turning to Ghetto. “You leaving as well, Reid?”

“Probably should, someone’s waiting for me,” Ghetto said, folding up the paper and stuffing it into his backpack. Xavier raised his eyebrows.

“Ah, okay,” he chuckled, picking up a paper and kicking his feet up on his desk as he read it. “Is this someone nice, at least?”

“Wha— Professor— just a friend!” Ghetto exclaimed, and Xavier glanced at him, squinting. “I’m serious. Look, I’ll admit I lied to Shark, but it’s just a little crush. No one even knows him... but I mean yeah. He’s nice.”

“Good. Now shoo, you kids and your crushes.” Xavier shook his head and watched, in mock disappointment, as Ghetto got up and left.

——

“News on your pops?”

“No, not worried yet though, he said it could take a while. He’s across the country right now,” Nick said. He was tending to roses in the back garden (which was also a part of the hidden second reality, or anomaly, or whatever Nick had called it), and Ghetto had insisted on helping out. “I told him to go, said I could be more independent than he thought. Trowel.”

Ghetto handed Nick the gardening tool. “Then you went and made a friend on the outside.”

“Ha! That I did. He’s not gonna be particularly happy about that at first.” Nick lowered his voice to a mumble towards the end as he uprooted a weed and tossed it in a bucket. “He’s just paranoid that someone's gonna see my power and take me away, or something.”

“Oh I get that, man.”

“It would just be nice to go to the store, or take a walk, or something. I went up once when I was younger, papa got all freaked out, and we left. He’s not keen on me leaving the cottage. But you coming here is nice enough,” Nick explained, and Ghetto hummed. “Oh! Hey, this isn’t a rose!”

Ghetto leaned over as Nick pulled a red flower from the rose garden. Nick noticed Ghetto leaning and smiled, tucking the flower behind Ghetto’s ear. “There we go,” Nick whispered, resting his hand on Ghetto’s cheek for a moment. Ghetto’s face flushed, and the next words tumbled right out of his mouth before he could think twice.

“Wh— What if we go somewhere before he comes back? A day out of the cottage, I could take you anywhere, he’ll never know you left.”

Nick’s eyes widened, and the rose bush beside him began to grow rapidly on its own. Ghetto opened his mouth and pointed behind Nick. “You mean— are you sure?” Nick asked, standing up. Ghetto stood up straight and shrugged, his bout of dazed confidence reaching its end.

“I— I don’t— if you want—”

Nick dropped the trowel and grinned. It was so bright and genuine that Ghetto couldn’t help but smile too. It was so nice to make Nick smile, even if the sight made Ghetto a mess of butterflies and blushes and way-too-fast-for-his-own-good heartbeats.

“Ghetto, I’d love to go somewhere with you. Anywhere. Oh my gosh could we go to a college party, do you go to those?” Nick grabbed Ghetto’s hands, and Ghetto laughed at the thought.

“I don’t think you’d like a college party, Nick. But—” Ghetto raised an eyebrow. “Well— there is a bonfire this Friday. Just me and some friends, and we could break off and walk alone if it’s too much. But there’ll be s’mores! Lots of ‘em!”

“S’mores,” Nick breathed, and Ghetto nodded.

“Oh hey, and probably beer, in case that’s a dealbreaker? I won’t have any, I’d need to drive you home anyway, but a good few of my friends are older than me by a year or two and—”

“It’s fine, I wanna go, I wanna go,” Nick said, bouncing up and down. Ghetto laughed and squeezed Nick’s hands.

“Alright! You can come with me.” Ghetto looked up for a moment, and sighed. “Just need to figure out when. Driving down here and back after class will make us pretty late.”

“Oh...” Nick put his hands on his hips. “Well, if it’s too much trouble—”

“I have an idea!” Ghetto interrupted, placing his hands on Nick’s arms. “If you’re okay with hanging out alone for a while.”

Nick scoffed. “I’ve kinda been hanging out alone for my whole life. I’ll bring my sketchbook,” he said, and Ghetto shut his eyes and nodded.

“Right. Dress warm—” Nick cut Ghetto off with a hug, slinking his arms under Ghetto’s and gripping at Ghetto’s jacket. Ghetto held his arms up, shocked, as Nick leaned his head against Ghetto’s chest. “Ohhh...”

“Thanks,” Nick said. Ghetto snapped out of it and hugged back. Nick was warm, and his sweater was soft, and Ghetto couldn’t help but chuckle when Nick hugged him tighter. He’d been told he was a good hugger.

(It occurred to them both, in this moment of serene silence, exactly how head over heels they both were for each other.)

“Don’t mention it,” Ghetto finally said. The hug broke, slowly and hesitantly, and even then their hands lingered on each other’s arms as Ghetto spoke.

“I need to tell you my plan.”

——

Friday morning before classes, Ghetto pulled up to the cottage in his car and honked his horn. His window was down, and he stuck his elbow out and leaned on the car door as he waited. Nick stumbled out of the cottage, wearing his usual scarf, sweater and jeans, now accompanied by red Converse and a small white backpack with a red rose print. His face and ears were red and as he walked, he left behind footprints of overgrown grass and little flowers.

“I didn’t wake when I was meant to,” Nick said, out of breath. Ghetto grinned and waved it off, motioning for Nick to get inside. Nick did, running to the passengers seat and sitting down. “You wake up this early?”

“Yeah, man! Usually go on a run—”

“A run?” Nick leaned back in his seat and sighed dramatically. “How! I usually get up at eleven at the earliest.”

Ghetto laughed and started to turn. “Just more of a morning person, I guess. Seatbelt.”

“Seatbelt?” Nick turned and gasped, pulling at his seatbelt and putting it on. “Been a while since I’ve been in a car, sorry.”

“You’re good, man. Hey, you tell me if you get overwhelmed, alright?” Ghetto sent Nick a quick concerned glance, which Nick shrugged off. “My friends are loud.”

“Ghetto, I’ll be fine! Getting out of my comfort zone a bit is kinda... what all of this is about!” Nick said. He leaned forward, peering down the path. “I wanna know what someone my age does if they— y’know, weren’t surrounded by and involved in weird unexplainable shit.”

“Alright, alright.” Ghetto smiled at Nick and kept driving. (Nick watched Ghetto as Ghetto kept his eyes on the road and hummed to the faint music playing on the car radio. Nick thought it was cute, how Ghetto tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel and bobbed his head ever so slightly to the tune. ‘You’re breathtaking,’ Nick mouthed, feeling bold.)

Ghetto hardly thought about it when he crossed onto the paved road, but Nick gasped and looked down at it with wide eyes, face nearly pressed to the car window. Ghetto noticed the sudden change in the air as he rolled into town, and looked at Nick after stopping at an intersection.

“You okay?” he asked, and Nick jumped and turned to him. Ghetto frowned at his frightened eyes.

“We’re in town. We left. I left,” Nick said. He scoffed, and nodded. “I— I’m doing this. I’m actually doing it.”

Ghetto cracked a smile. “Yeah you are, man!”

“Yeah I am!” Nick held his hands up. “Let’s go!”

They both laughed, and Ghetto drove on.

——

Ghetto walked across his college campus with Nick’s hand in his. Nick was distracted, the sight of multiple story buildings and bustling (and oftentimes loud) college students taking up his attention. Ghetto stayed quiet, letting Nick take it all in. He led Nick to the science building.

Nick clung to Ghetto’s arm once they got inside, and Ghetto offered quiet reassurances as they made their way to a classroom door. Ghetto knocked, and Xavier opened the door, smiling at Ghetto. “You’re here early, Reid—” He paused as his eyes shifted to Nick. “Who—”

“Professor, this is Nick, Nick this is Professor Xavier,” Ghetto introduced, and Nick waved, face half hidden in Ghetto’s arm. Xavier blinked, and gasped.

“Oh— oh! Right! Ghetto’s... friend... come in come in,” he urged, and he ushered the twenty year olds inside. He shut the door. “Is there anything I can do for you boys?”

“Yeah, uh, actually,” Ghetto winced, “could you keep him in here till after classes?”

Xavier raised his eyebrows. “Can I— Ghetto, are you up to something?” he asked, hands on his hips. He looked at Nick. “Is he up to something, dear boy? Is he hiding you— Ghetto are you hiding him from your friends?”

“No!” Ghetto took a deep breath. “He doesn’t have anywhere else to go, this is the safest place for him I can think of on campus, we’re going to the bonfire together after classes.”

“Professor, sir,” Nick spoke up, “I’ll stay out of your way, I just— I don’t want to bring Ghetto trouble by sneaking into his classes with him.”

Xavier looked between the two, then to Nick’s hold on Ghetto’s arm. He sighed. “Okay. I have a back room, you can stay there, dear,” he said to Nick. “Nice to meet you, by the way.” He held out a hand, and Nick shook it, smiling only slightly.

“Nice to meet you too,” Nick said, and Xavier patted his shoulder.

“Ghetto’s wrapped you up in his shenanigans now, has he,” Xavier said. Nick giggled and shook his head.

“I think I’ve wrapped him up in mine,” Nick corrected. Xavier hummed and nodded, clasping his hands in front of him.

“Either way, I wish you two the best.”

“Wait— what does that—”

“Professor!”

——

“He’s your little crush, isn’t he?” Xavier asked. It was after class, and Ghetto had returned for Nick after spending his class time zoned out and worrying about him.

“Professor— not so loud.” Ghetto put a finger to his lips. “Where is he?”

“In the back, drawing,” Xavier sighed. “Reid. He likes you.”

Ghetto waved him off and walked to the back room. Xavier shook his head and leaned back in his chair, hands crossed over his chest.

Ghetto slipped into the back room, and Nick smiled at him, shutting his sketchbook and standing up. “Time to head out, we’re going straight to the Spot,” Ghetto said, and Nick hugged him again. Ghetto sucked in a breath, then relaxed. “Aw, you alright? Does being away from the forest like, deplete your energy or something you didn’t tell me?”

Nick laughed and broke the hug. “No. I’m fine... just missed you. These classes are huge,” he whispered, and Ghetto nodded. “I feel like... I’m in a whole different world right now. I overheard Xavier’s lectures and even some college gossip, and everything’s so new to me and it’s all so much—” Nick gasped. “Oh my god, is this how you felt when I told you about all the— the weird stuff?”

Ghetto tilted his head in thought, then nodded. “I guess so! Looks like things have switched in a way, huh?” he laughed, and Nick grinned.

“Looks like,” Nick said, gasping again. “Let’s get to the bonfire! S’mores!”

“S’mores!” Ghetto repeated, holding out his hand. Nick blushed and held it. They left the back room, and Nick tugged Ghetto towards Xavier.

“Thank you so much, Professor, for letting me stay,” Nick said, and Xavier waved it off.

“It’s no problem, dear, you go have fun,” Xavier said, smiling. Nick grinned and nodded. As the boys left, Xavier’s eyes drifted momentarily to a small pot of succulents he tended to neglect. He went back to his work, then did a double take, grabbing the pot. He swore he didn’t remember them looking that healthy.

——

“The Spot” was a semi-abandoned campsite on the outskirts of town. People still camped there on occasion, taking the opportunity to avoid spending money, but there was no staff to actually monitor the site. Nature seemed to have reclaimed it aside from some old signs, clearings, and firepits, which were frequently used by partying teens and college students. Shark had claimed a pit that was a bit far from the rest back when he was a teenager, and never stopped using it.

Ghetto parked his car just as Shark began his usual PSA about the dangers of the nearby poison ivy combined with drunkenness.

“Who’s he?” Nick asked, and Ghetto turned the car off. “I saw him that night, when you first came to the cottage.”

“Yeah! That’s Shark, he hosts a lot of this stuff. He does this speech every time, because usually AK or Sky, one of them, winds up falling right into poison ivy after drinking a lot,” Ghetto explained, opening the car door. Nick hummed and followed suit. There was a small group gathered around the firepit, a few holding beers or sodas, though the fire was not yet lit. There was faint rock music playing from a portable speaker.

Nick stood on his tip toes. “Who’s all here?”

Ghetto looked up for a moment. “Shark, his girlfriend Annie, litter boy AK, Sky, his boyfriend Barney, and Jess,” he listed, pointing each of them out. Nick mouthed the names to himself and nodded as Ghetto opened the trunk of his car and handed him bags of marshmallows. 

“Ooo—”

“Ghetto, you’re here!” Shark jogged over and leaned on his car. “Can you help with the fire, man, it’s getting damn cold out here—” Ghetto got out chairs and shut the trunk, revealing Nick. Shark tilted his head and squinted. “Who—”

Nick jumped. “Oh, umm, my name’s Nick,” he said, waving. Ghetto winced as he watched the realization strike in Shark’s eyes. _Don’t say it, motherfucker..._

“Nick, huh?” Shark grinned at Ghetto, who glared in return. “Nice to meet you, man, welcome to the Spot. I don’t think I’ve seen you before, you from a different town or something?”

Nick blinked and opened his mouth, but Ghetto answered for him. “He’s visiting his brother, who goes to our uni. They’re both not from here,” he said, and Shark raised an eyebrow.

“Alright, well again, have fun.” Shark winked, and walked away. Ghetto rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“He seemed very nice,” Nick said, and Ghetto scoffed.

“Sure. Come on, I gotta start the fire,” Ghetto sighed, lugging the chairs up to the bonfire pit and setting them up. Nick found a table with snacks and set the marshmallow bags there. He sat in one of Ghetto’s chairs and brought his knees up to his chest. Ghetto glanced back at him. “Cold?”

“A little,” Nick admitted. Ghetto scoffed and took off his jacket, draping it over Nick. “Oh—” Nick stammered and held onto the big jacket, face flushed. “But you’ll get cold.”

“I’m fine! Put it on if you want.” Ghetto shrugged it off, despite the fact that he was wearing a short sleeved shirt in crisp dusk air. Nick put the jacket on as Ghetto sprinkled some lighter fluid on the firewood and tossed a lit match into the pit. The fire grew quickly, and a few cheers and hoots erupted from the small group. Nick jumped at the noise, but added a quiet clap to the mix. Ghetto waved his hand and bowed dramatically before sitting into the chair next to Nick’s.

“Great form,” Nick joked, and Ghetto snickered and pushed lightly at his shoulder.

Shark raised his drink. “Let’s make some fuckin’ s’mores!” he shouted, and the group cheered louder. Nick laughed and tapped his feet against the ground excitedly, hardly noticing the flowers blooming under his shoes.

——

As darkness fell upon the campsite, the music got louder and the college kids loosened up, energized by sugar and in some cases, alcohol. In the dark, no one noticed the gradual growth of plants and flowers around them, though AK nearly stepped in a batch of poison ivy that he could’ve sworn hadn’t always been that big.

“Shark, would you quit it, I’m just trying to have a good time with a new friend,” Ghetto said, unable to hide his smile. Shark waved him off.

“I’m just telling you— if you leave early to go hang out alone I won’t mind. You two have been gazing at each other this whole time, and I know this is that dude you have a crush on, the N-named dude in your little middle school love heart,” Shark said, holding up his hands and making a heart shape. Ghetto smacked him on the shoulder as he laughed.

“He’s having fun here, he’s had about a million s’mores, and he’s laughing at AK, look.” The two boys turned to Nick, who was sitting in the chair and laughing along with the others as Sky tossed mini marshmallows and AK tried (and failed) to catch them in his mouth. “He doesn’t wanna leave yet,” Ghetto said, and Shark shrugged it off.

“Ghetto!” Nick called, reaching a hand out. Ghetto smiled and walked over, holding it. It didn’t register to Ghetto how natural it had become to hold Nick’s hand; he figured it was just to comfort Nick while he was in an unfamiliar place. “Thank you again, really.”

Ghetto helped Nick stand up from his chair. They didn’t let go of each other’s hands. “Your friends are funny,” Nick said with a soft laugh that made Ghetto’s heart soar. Across the fire pit, AK shouted and stood as Sky threw the bag of marshmallows at him. Sky took his sunglasses off.

“They are huh... Hey, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, even if it is just a few friends hanging out,” Ghetto said, and Nick squeezed his hands.

“Ghetto, that’s all I wanted,” Nick scoffed. “This is the best night of my life! You’re amazing, this life... is amazing.”

“It got better when you came around,” Ghetto said, and Nick’s eyes seemed to sparkle. Nick moved his hands and cupped Ghetto’s face, and for a moment everything else fell away. Ghetto felt his heart pounding. He placed a hand over one of Nick’s and let his eyes flutter shut. Nick stood on his tip toes.

Then Sky misjudged his strength and shoved AK straight into the poison ivy.

“Goddammit!” Shark shouted. Nick yelped and moved his hands to his sides, taking a few sudden steps backwards. Ghetto blinked a few times and shook his head. He cussed under his breath as he looked over to a violently cursing AK and an only slightly guilty Sky, who was helping AK out of the foliage.

It took a moment for Ghetto’s mind to refocus. He put a hand on his chest; his heart was still beating like crazy. Were he and Nick about to— holy shit. They were about to kiss. It hit him all at once; the smiling and the gazing and the hand holding and the way Nick had gotten up to the tips of his toes... Ghetto’s eyes went wide, and he turned back to Nick. “Nick that was— oh shit, are you okay?”

Nick had pulled Ghetto’s hood far over his head. He seemed suddenly uneasy, and when his eyes darted to Ghetto they almost looked frightened. “I didn’t mean to—” Nick stammered, shutting his eyes. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

That was what grounded Ghetto. “Nick, you just said it was the best night of your life— hold on, let’s get you somewhere quiet, alright?” Ghetto held out a hand. Nick sighed and took it, letting Ghetto lead him away from the now-chaotic group. They walked down an old hiking trail until the voices of the others were faint.

Nick faced Ghetto, and held his arms out. “I— I didn’t mean to— that was my bad, okay?”

Ghetto raised his eyebrows and scoffed. “Your bad? Nick—”

Nick took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to do that,” he said. (He definitely did.) “That was— I was having a moment! A moment. I’m excited! I’m... fuck. I don’t... have an excuse.” He held his head in his hands and let out a muffled whine.

Ghetto sighed, and smiled. “Nick...” he breathed, walking up to Nick and placing a hand on his shoulder. Ghetto was stuck somewhere between shock and relief, and his heartbeat still seemed unnecessarily intense, but he refused to leave Nick where he was. “You’re okay, I also... I mean— I wasn’t complaining.”

Nick’s head shot up. He pointed at Ghetto, his mouth hung open. “You—”

“Me,” Ghetto laughed. “I gave you my jacket, man.”

“You gave me your jacket,” Nick whispered, putting a hand on his forehead. “You—” He started to laugh. “You gave me your jacket. I’m— I’m wearing your jacket.”

Ghetto chuckled, both his hands on Nick’s shoulders now, feeling as they bounced with laughter. “You put a flower in my ear,” Ghetto said, and Nick laughed harder, leaning on Ghetto and hiding his face in his chest.

“You came to my cottage every other fucking day!” Nick shouted.

“Look at all this shit around you!” Ghetto motioned to the ground around them, where the path had become completely overgrown and covered in flowers. They both burst into full blown laughter after that, Ghetto hugging Nick close, one hand on his back and the other running through his soft hair. They were both blushing furiously, part from laughing, part from sheer embarrassment, and part from their now clear, out-in-the-open attraction for one another.

Ghetto felt dangerously close to falling over when they were done with their laugh-away-the-pain session, and he held onto Nick for support as the hug broke. Nick held onto Ghetto’s arms in return, and after a few moments of cool-down, he moved his hands back to Ghetto’s face. Ghetto grinned and placed his hands on Nick’s waist.

Nick got on his tiptoes, and Ghetto leaned over, and they kissed. Ghetto felt the rest of the world disappear again, from the bonfires to the old, reality-bending cottages. It was only him, and Nick, kissing and falling further for each other with each passing second. Ghetto wrapped his arms around Nick, and Nick threw his arms over Ghetto’s shoulders.

Nick broke the kiss and asked, “Ghetto, you sure about this?”

“Nick, I’m fucking kissing you, ‘course I’m sure,” Ghetto reassured, brushing hair off Nick’s forehead and kissing him there, then on the lips. Nick jumped slightly at both.

“I live in a weird cottage—” They kissed. “I can grow plants with my mind—” Then kissed again. “I have my reasons for staying inside.”

“Nick,” Ghetto sighed, cupping Nick’s face. “I wanna be with you. Do you wanna be with me?”

“Yeah,” Nick said, nodding.

“Then that’s that.”

“O-kay.” Nick smiled, and Ghetto kissed his nose. “Hey!”

“Your face is the cutest shit I’ve ever seen,” Ghetto said, and Nick wiggled his head out of Ghetto’s hands, pulling Ghetto’s hood over his face. “I’m serious, man!”

“Well— _your_ face is the cutest shit _I’ve_ ever seen!” Nick retaliated, shoving Ghetto’s chest lightly. Ghetto laughed and hugged Nick again, making Nick jump. “Ghetto! There are going to be foot-shaped flower patches all over this campsite if you don’t cut it out!”

“I can carry you back then,” Ghetto said, and Nick went quiet in his arms. Ghetto raised an eyebrow. “That a yes?”

“Mhm...”

“Ha!” Ghetto scooped Nick up bridal style, snickering as Nick yelped and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “You’re so light, man, holy shit. Cute-ass,” Ghetto said, and Nick mock-glared at him. Ghetto carried Nick back to the campsite, his face starting to hurt from smiling so damn much.

Shark noticed them first, and raised his bottle. “Ghetto, Nick! Congrats—” He hesitated and put a hand on his hip. “No wait hold on. This isn’t some ‘just pals’ shit right—”

“It’s not,” Ghetto scoffed, setting Nick down. They held hands. “We’re uh— a thing, or whatever.”

“CONGRATU-lations, sorry, loud.” Shark cleared his throat, noticing how Nick flinched at his volume. “I’ve had a bit to drink. Nice, man! I fucking told you so. Nick, this guy never fucking listens to me— can you tell him to listen to me more?”

Nick giggled and looked up at Ghetto. “I think you should listen to Shark more,” he said, and Ghetto hummed.

“Is that so?” Ghetto turned his head from Nick to Shark, who offered a thumbs up. “My friend, you are tipsy.”

“I may be! Maybe. I wish you two the best, really. You seem like a really nice guy, Nick,” Shark said, putting a hand on his chest. “Ghetto, you should take me up on that leaving early thing, AK’s starting to feel the effects of the poison ivy and it’s all gonna go downhill from here.”

“Yeah, I was wondering about that. Nick, you ready to head out?” Ghetto nudged Nick. “You’ll see these fuckers again, I’m sure.”

“We can go,” Nick said with a chuckle.

“Good choice.” Shark grinned and ruffled Nick’s hair as he walked past them. “I’ll see you Monday, Ghetto. See you ‘round, Nick.”

“Thank you!” Nick said, and Shark waved it off. Ghetto threw his arm over Nick’s shoulder, and they walked back to the car.

——

The cold didn’t register for Ghetto until they got back to the cottage; he was kept warm enough by adrenaline, excitement, whatever the hell, but once that wore out, all Ghetto had was a short sleeved v-neck and jeans. Nick lit the fireplace, got Ghetto a few blankets, and made some hot chocolate.

“Thanks,” Ghetto whispered as Nick handed him his cup and sat down next to him, in front of the fireplace. Ghetto still felt somewhat like he was dreaming.

“I’m sorry, man,” Nick sighed. Ghetto waved it off.

“It’s fine, totally worth it,” he said, sipping a bit of the warm drink. “Give the cute boy your jacket, they say, huh. Seemed to have worked though.”

“Hey.” Nick leaned on Ghetto, snuggling up against him. Ghetto smiled and wrapped an arm around him, letting him share the blanket. “Best day of my life. I’m serious.”

“Aww, Nick, I’m so glad you came and had fun and stuff. Your smile’s just... incredible shit, man,” Ghetto said, and Nick hid his face in Ghetto’s shoulder. “Man— you need to get used to this!”

“Never had a boyfriend before, mind you!” Nick’s voice was muffled. Ghetto chuckled and rubbed Nick’s arm soothingly.

“I know, I know. Hey, I’m warming up,” Ghetto said. Nick raised his head, slinking an arm around Ghetto and scratching his back. They watched the fire in pleasant silence for a while as Ghetto drank his hot chocolate.

“I’m so happy I met you,” Nick whispered, sitting up straight and putting a hand on Ghetto’s cheek. “So, unbelievably happy.”

“Same here, flower boy.” They kissed, eyes shut, and Nick grinned after a few moments. Ghetto knew. “Taste the hot chocolate, huh.”

“Maybe.” Nick kissed him again. “Maybe I just like kissing you.”

Ghetto smirked. “Oh, really?”

“Really.” Nick kissed him a third time, rubbing his thumb over Ghetto’s cheek. Ghetto hummed and held out his hot chocolate as the kiss broke.

“You know you can just have some,” he mumbled, and Nick scoffed and took the mug.

“One sip,” Nick said, and though it was quite a big sip (Ghetto raised his eyebrows) he stayed true to his word. He handed the mug back and returned to his position curled up next to Ghetto.

There they sat, two boys in love (even if they didn’t know it yet) in an impossible cabin. Nothing else mattered quite as much to them in that moment except for each other, and Ghetto found himself still entranced by Nick far into the night, when the fire dimmed and the hot chocolate ran out and the new boyfriend in question dozed off against him.

Ghetto finally figured out what was in the cottage in the woods, and he couldn’t have been happier with the result.


End file.
